


Beyonce - Halo

by KathyIsWeird



Series: Jane and Maura's Infinite Playlist [7]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Miscarriage, non-graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:25:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyIsWeird/pseuds/KathyIsWeird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's so tiny, likely for a newborn. The little piece of white knitted yarn. A little "B" that was close enough to the Red Sox to be recognizable,  burns into your vision forever. You turn it over in your hands and then your heart shatters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyonce - Halo

You're proud of yourself.

 

You made it around the corner. That's a hell of a lot further than you expect. Sliding down the wall, your arms come up to wrap yourself defensively. When you hit the tile, you reach up and lock the door.

 

Multiple feelings without names you can think of are boiling in your chest, and it's only a matter of seconds 'til you feel them bubbling out.

 

You sob.

 

The sound is unlike anything you've ever heard before. It's foreign,  something else.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Janie, be a dear and grab the corn holders from the drawer, won't you?" Angela waves you away, already focusing on something else.

 

Maura's kitchen has multiple drawers, none of which you'd ever seen corn accessories in.

 

 

So, you start on the left,  working in a pattern. You've been in each of these multiple times, and yet you still open each one and rummage through various utensils.

 

Once you've made your way across the sink with no progress,  you turn and face your mother.

 

"Ma. What drawer are they in?"

 

She looks at you like you're asking about basic addition,  pointing towards the drawer closest to the refrigerator.  With a roll of her eyes, your mother turns back to her meat and mumbles something about common sense not being genetic.

 

You take a deep breath and yank open the drawer,  eager to just find the damned plastic pieces and go back to the game playing in the living room.

 

The handle comes off on one hinge in your hand and you instantly regret your aggression.  

 

It's not your mother's fault that you lost your child. If anything, she's only trying to help.  You should be more docile, she of all people knows your pain.

 

The drawer opens easily and you reach in. The game is playing around the corner, and you try your best to look at the score while your hand roots around the bags of batteries and the occasional chapstick.  

 

Your fingers find the hard plastic case you're looking for, but also feel something...soft.

 

Confused,  you break away from the game and look at your hand. You pull out the smallest little piece of fabric you've ever seen. You unfold it and gasp.

 

It's so tiny, likely for a newborn. The little piece of white knitted yarn. A little "B" that was close enough to the Red Sox to be recognizable,  burns into your vision forever. You turn it over in your hands and then your heart shatters.

 

There, in a curly type script,  the name "Rizzoli" sits brightly. Everything falls into place.

  
  


Your mother suddenly having movie nights with Maura while you’re working. The pristine Doctor coming over to your house with bits of yarn sticking to her dress.  Maura suddenly asking all sorts of questions about pantones and the numeric code of the Red Sox. She was so excited to show you her first completed project, but of course you needed to steal the show and land yourself in the hospital.

 

The hat falls from your grasp and hits the floor without a sound. You draw deep breaths and try to calm the trembles that are coursing through your body. Panic attacks are all too familiar but rare since Hoyt. Once you see the black vignette around your vision, you jump into action.

 

You make it the first floor bathroom. That's how you end up here: sitting on the tile floor, head in your hands as you try to gain control of your breathing. A tiny knock makes you jump and you scoot from the door to the bathtub, revelling in the feel of the cool porcelain.

 

Maura steps in, still in her work clothes, and refuses to meet your gaze. She kicks off her heels and joins you against the tub. You glance over slowly and your heart breaks all over again.

 

She’s crying quietly. Of course. The hat was still laying on the floor.

 

“I’m sorry.” her words are heavy.

 

You cannot speak for a moment, words are escaping from you each and every time you open your mouth. So, you slowly creep your hand across the tile and place your sweaty palm over her hand.

 

She is forgiven.

 

You look up and see her gorgeous hazel eyes are stained red. The calm exterior that you’ve managed to implement comes crumbling down with every tear shed by your best friend.

 

Soon you’re sobbing into your hands and she is hovering over you, unsure how to help. You know Maura, so you lift your head and open your arms, too weak to play the martyr anymore.

  
  


All the feelings of abandonment that you’ve been suppressing for weeks manifest in the form of a singular rhetorical question:

 

“Maura, why? Why does everyone leave me?” internally you cringe, this sounds awfully selfish of you.

 

She looks at you confused for a moment. Then, her eyes widen and she seems to understand.

 

“Barold.” Just his name alone gives you the chills. She falls into your embrace finally, pulling you tightly. The smell of her hair comforts you; it’s the shampoo she bought for you yesterday.

 

“He just left us. He left us to live without him! Maura, I feel guilty for being alive, what kind of life is that?” You’re angry, so angry.

 

“Are you still talking about Frost, Jane?” Maura pulls away from you to gauge your reaction. You shake your head, unable to breathe. You try to calm yourself, only to struggle more.

 

“Oh.” she seems to understand.  
  
It’s then that Maura sits next to you and pulls you into her lap. It’s awkward because you have several inches on her, but she wraps her arms around you from behind and places her hands on your diaphragm. She whispers instructions calmingly into your ear. You can feel her chest rise and fall with yours, and it soothes you. For a long while you’re quiet, breathing loudly in tandem as you slowly calm down.

  
  


“How’d you find it?” the question startles you.

  
  


“Ma told me to look for the corn holders.”

  
  


The sound of a quiet laugh, makes you squirm out of her lap and turn around to face her.

 

“What’s so funny?” you’re still exhausted from your episode earlier.

 

“I threw those out ages ago, Jane. I don’t think we’ve had them since you and Frankie went to the hospital after Thanksgiving last year,” Maura explained.

  
  


“Oh.” it hurt that this whole conflict was avoidable.

 

Maura puts her hands out, and you comply by taking them in yours. She turns them around so you’re both palm up, and starts to rub your fingers soothingly.

 

“I have an idea, if you’ll hear me out?” she’s meek, quiet. Something about the unsure tone in her voice makes you nervous.

 

“Uhh?”

 

“Do you want to make a box in memorial?” she asks quietly, as if she’s picking her words carefully.

 

“For Frost?”

 

“For both? You can put things into a box, and you can do whatever you want with it. You don’t always have to hide your pain. You can keep them here if you’d like.”  
  
The idea isn’t terrible, but it’s something that needs more thinking than you’re capable of right now. So, you change the subject.

 

“I’m sorry that I freaked out Maura, I didn’t mean to ruin dinner or anything,” you mutter, feeling a little embarrassed.

 

“You didn’t ruin anything. Everyone left after I got home and saw the beanie on the floor. How about I order us a pizza? I’ll let you choose the movie?” Maura smiles down at you and stand up. She grabs her heels and holds out a hand. You grab her hand and you know, you just know, that you will be okay.

  
  
  
  


.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
